A Series of Firsts
by TYRider
Summary: This is the sequel to "Little Ella and the Doctor" and is a series of firsts in their life together. Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, humor, adventures, etc. will all be had. Starts off within days of where Little Ella and the Doctor ends and continues from there to cover first birthdays, first arguments, etc. I'll also be open to taking requests if you have a first you'd like to see.
1. First Proper Dinner Pt 1

**Hello all! If you haven't read Little Ella and the Doctor yet, I recommend that you do that before reading this series. That way you'll understand what's going on. If you're one of my lovely, marvelous, faithful readers and reviewers of Little Ella and the Doctor, then this is for you. I am so glad that you enjoyed Ella's first adventure with the Doctor so much! I hope you enjoy this series of firsts just as much. I do plan to write more adventure-based and plot-driven stories with Ella and the Doctor but first I thought there were some firsts they needed to get through together. As always: reviews make my day! Anyway, enough note... now, on to the story:**

The Doctor had decided that tonight they would have an actual, sit down dinner together; their first proper dinner as a ragtag little family. Ella was in her room, getting ready, while the Doctor dashed about in the kitchen attempting to cook. Typically, he would have let the TARDIS take care of all of the preparations but he wanted this dinner to be special and he wanted a hand in making it.

And that was why he was swearing under his breath in Gallifreyan as he ventured to open the stove with a grimace. He closed his eyes tightly as smoke billowed out. "Well, that's definitely two buses and a cab from good," he said to himself, pulling out the pan of some unrecognizable pile of smoldering goo. "Yeah, definitely not good." Quickly, he tossed the whole mess, pan and all, into the bin.

Whirling around on the toes of his faded Converse trainers, he turned to the cabinets, searching them quickly for anything edible that came in a box, ready to eat and looked like it might appeal to a finicky eater. He grabbed several packages of food and tossed them onto the counter. Give him banana daiquiris to make any day, but regular food? He shook his head. No, the TARDIS would be in charge of all future meals, he decided. Or they could get take. Take out was good.

"I'm not really hungry," came a voice from the doorway. Ella stepped into the room, all dressed up in a pair of gold, sparkly jeans, a dark purple tunic, and bare feet. She gave the smoking bin a quizzical look but didn't ask. Instead, she wandered over to the circular table, looking a little uncertain. Running her hand over the circles that were words, she sat.

"You have to eat, Ella," the Doctor said, trying to sound stern. It was hard to be stern and happy at the same time. He decided to change tactics; maybe distraction would work. Like a magic trick, maybe he could divert her attention long enough to somehow get her to actually consume food. "What if we took our dinner to your favorite room and had a picnic?" he asked, smiling.

Ella looked up sharply. "Yes," she said, eyes dancing and arguments forgotten. She jumped up and flitted over to the counter. "This is what we're taking?" she asked, pointing to the boxes of random foods on the counter.

The Doctor nodded, a little embarrassed. "I tried to…" he trailed off, gesturing lamely at the bin.

"I like this," Ella said, seeming not to notice his failure as she picked up a box of Captain Crunch cereal and tucking it under her arm. "Where are the bowls?" she asked, scooting around the Doctor to get to the cabinets.

"Up here," he said with relief. He opened on of the higher cabinets before she could climb up on the counter and do it herself. Handing her two bowls, he moved to find the drawer with the spoons. "And these are here," he told her, pointing.

Ella nodded, glancing his way for a moment before going back to perusing the selection of ready to eat foods on the counter. "Can we have these?" she asked, pointing to a box of biscuits and another box of chocolate-covered cakes.

The Doctor grinned. "Sure, whatever you like. We might need something healthy," he remembered to add, turning the the part of the kitchen that served as a refrigerator without actually being one. Grabbing a couple of carrots and bananas, he presented them to her with a flourish.

Making a face, Ella eyed the food with obvious loathing.

"Aww, come on!" said the Doctor. "You've got to love bananas! Bananas are brilliant!" he enthused. "Always take a banana to a party," he added seriously.

Ella giggled in spite of herself. "Okay," she said, taking one of the bananas. With her boxes of cereal and sweets, she headed for the door.

Pausing for a moment, the Doctor rummaged around in the kitchen until he had collected a few other fruits (some Earthly and some not), a loaf of bread, some jam, a couple of plates, and some extra silverware and started to follow the little girl. He had to backtrack to retrieve a picnic blanket, the red and white checkered fabric fluttering behind him as he ran to catch up with Ella.

Meeting up with her at the door to their dining room for the evening, he pressed the button to open the door with his elbow. He smiled happily as Ella trotted into the room and onto the beach, bare feet sinking in the synthetic sand. Ahead of them lay a small ocean, its rising and falling surface going on as far as the eye could see under a light blue sky. Hints of pink were beginning to tinge the horizon even though there was no sun to set; the room was lit by a special kind of glowing air and didn't require additional lighting. The Doctor had shown Ella to this room the day before in lieu of taking her to the pool, which he seemed to have temporarily misplaced. He'd noticed how much she liked it instantly.

They dumped their boxes and sundry packages onto the soft white sand, where it was dry and a safe distance from the gently rolling waves. Together they more or less managed to spread out the blanket and arrange their items. The Doctor distributed the plates and bowls and silverware, and divvied up the food. He knew that they needed to talk, and they would, but first it would be nice just to be together and enjoy the beach.

"Let's eat," he said, peeling a banana and digging in, pleased to see Ella do the same. "Then we can talk."


	2. First Proper Dinner Pt 2

**A/N: So, this chapter took me quite a while. Sorry. I don't have any excuse, just that Netflix was a distraction and then I lost my inspiration for a bit. Anyway, I hope the length of this chapter and the fluff makes up for the wait. Also, there are some possible ****trigger warnings for mentions of child abuse and an easting disorder.**

Dinner had been going well. The Doctor scarfed down his food with his usual zeal, devouring a couple of bananas, a bowl of cereal, and a carrot. Even Ella ate, tearing into all of the colorful boxes of sweets and picking at their contents. A stolen bit of something chocolate here and a mouthful of sugary cereal there. The Doctor could tell that she tried not to look too pleased with the banana he'd given her, but she gave herself away when she consumed the whole thing. It was a good meal even if the food wasn't particularly healthy. Ella was relaxing, being childish. She even flashed him a quick smile and a laugh when he accidentally squished a cream-filled cake while trying to open the infernal packaging it came it. White icing went everywhere, splattering on his pin-striped suit and clumping in the sand. It was worth it, though, for that laugh.

Conversation had been light as they ate. The Doctor explained some of the functions of his sonic screwdriver, pointing out some of its more intricate details and letting Ella fiddle with it for a little while. Then they chatted idly about the water, molecules, and the makeup of synthetic sand, before moving on to talk about maths and science, literature and history in small doses. The Doctor used the conversation as an opportunity to see what kind of education she had received. It turned out that her knowledge was surprisingly deep in some areas and virtually nonexistent in others, but her ability to grasps concepts was remarkable. There was definitely hope there.

At some point the conversation had faded into something akin to a companionable silence as they munched their food and dug their toes into the sand. Each of them to the opportunity to examine the other, putting together what they could without asking questions.

The Doctor wondered what Ella must think of him with his unruly hair and pinstripe suit, the glasses he wore just because they were cool and the faded Converse that were well worn from running across alien planets. Would she think him funny and strange? Crazy? Trustworthy? Kind? How much could she learn about him just by looking? How much did she already know? Her expression was unreadable as she looked him over, small fingers systematically crumbling a Jammie Dodger and scattering the crumbs among the sand.

He watched Ella, trying to deduce her the way Sherlock would. She was unusually small for her age and dangerously thin, all sharp angles under her loosely fitting clothes with only a little baby fat to soften the features of her pale face. Malnutrition was obvious. Her insistence that she was never hungry and abhorrence of food suggested an eating disorder; her desperate attempt to control something in an oppressive world where nothing was in her control, where she never felt safe—an act of rebellion, too. He tried to think clinically, to gather information without letting too much emotion in to cloud his mind, but it was hard. He didn't want to see, didn't want to know, to understand. But knowing was necessary and gathering information this way would be easier and more painless than trying to ask Ella about things like this. He sighed a little and moved on in his observations. The scars caught his eye again. The marks of struggling against restraints were clear upon her wrists and fading bruises were visible on her upper arms. The Doctor shook his head, knowing what had caused those. Under Ella's sharp green eyes, orbs of jade and smokey gray with a hidden razor's edge, were darkish circles, tinting pale skin with the signs of insomnia. He wondered suddenly if Ella had nightmares, if monsters terrorized her in the night even while she was here, even now that she was safe.

For a moment their eyes met, brown eyes ancient and sad, warm and kind and a little bit hopeful locked with questioning green ones full of wariness and fear with a spark of trust. The Doctor offered a smile, the lopsided gesture was meant to convey the things he didn't know how to say; "Everything will be okay" and "I've got you." The corners of Ella's coral lips rose slightly before she looked away, wild blond hair falling into her face. He hoped she knew what he was trying to communicate and that her smile wasn't due to food stuck in his teeth of something silly like that.

Enough thinking, the Doctor decided. There was so much both of them were ignorant about, so much they had to learn about each other now that they had somehow become family. The time for talking, asking questions, setting rules, and learning about each other was now. He opened his mouth. "I…" he trailed off, jaw snapping shut as Ella looked up at him and he suddenly realized he didn't know what to say. The Time Lord looked up, gesturing at the air with his right hand, propping himself up on the sand with his left. He crossed and uncrossed his ankles before crossing them again, still twirling his fingers through the sky, trying to pull words out of thin air.

Suddenly he was struck by an idea. If he was right—and he usually was—then this plan was brilliant if a bit painful. The Doctor gave Ella a quick smile before polishing off the last of his Captain Crunch cereal and milk. Without a second though, he tossed the bowl into the ocean. He caught Ella's look, one eyebrow raised in question and eyes skeptical. The Doctor grinned a little self-consciously.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing his hands together and then running his right hand through the hairs at the back of his neck. "I should mention that the TARDIS has an automated retrieval system for things like that. Things have a way of always making their way back to where they belong." He paused and frowned a little. "Well, I say always… they have a way of disappearing sometimes too. Silly old girl. Anyway, probably shouldn't toss rubbish into any real oceans, yeah? Littering is one of those universally frowned upon things. Some planets even shoot you for it. There was this one time—" he cut himself off, realizing he was rambling.

Ella giggled, shaking her head at him before throwing her own bowl into the water like a misshapen Frisbee.

Reminded of his plan, the Doctor picked up his spoon, examining it for a moment before using the handle of it to start drawing in the sand. He could feel Ella's eyes on him, watching the swooping movements of his hand intently. There was a moment when he sensed her shift, a sort of recognition causing the motions. He continued on with his task. Both of them were perfectly silent, the crashing waves and their quiet breaths the only disturbances.

It only took the Time Lord a few minutes to finish what he was doing. He threw the spoon into the ocean after the bowl and then wiped the sand from his hands. Ella leaned forward to examine his handy work and he watched her follow the big, interconnected circles, eyes pausing on the spots where smaller circles intersected the larger ones or where crescent chunks were missing. He could tell that she had figured out what it was. This was a perfect copy of the inscription on the table in the kitchen, copied from his memory. It was still a little painful for him to look at, but it was good, too. Something about it still held the power to make him smile.

Ella's eyes snapped up to meet his, lips parted in question, but she didn't ask. He'd already refused to answer her once, she obviously didn't want a repeat denial. Her shoulders were still, body coiled even as she pretended to be relaxed. Even as she tried to pretend not to care.

"You were right," the Doctor said, gesturing to the circles. "They are words. Modern Gallifreyan." He sucked in a quick breath, pulling the air in between his teeth. "That's the language of my people. Or it was. Ella, I…" he trailed off again. He knew he had to tell her, he had to explain that he wasn't exactly what she thought. He wasn't human. Not even close. How would she react? He didn't know and he was more than a little afraid to find out.

"I know," Ella said, surprising him.

"Know what?" he couldn't help but ask.

The eight-year-old rolled her eyes. "That you aren't human. Obviously," she tacked on with a tone of bored omniscience that would have made Sherlock Holmes proud.

"How?"

"Two heartbeats, double pulse. 'Sides," she added, a bit of a child's lisp peeking through, "your eyes are too old."

The Doctor was still too taken aback by her knowledge and calm acceptance of the facts to do much more than swallow and work his jaw in little aborted attempts to speak. Well, this was a better reaction than he had expected at least.

And suddenly he found that the tables were turned. He had been expecting to have to bribe her for answers and make confessions about himself. Now it was Ella conducting the seaside interrogation.

"A Gallifreyan, that's what you are?" she asked curiously.

The Doctor swallowed and nodded. "Yeah," he said, finding his voice again. "I'm a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey."

"Are all Time Lords like you? Do you really look human or is this some kind of…" she waved a pale hand through the air, "costume?"

The Doctor laughed. "Humans look Time Lord, not the other way around. And this is my own skin, thanks. Any more questions?" What he had been planning to say could wait.

"How old are you?" Ella asked, voice a tiny bit softer.

He thought about lying then. "I'm well into my ninth century now. Linearly speaking. I've been to more years than that."

The little blond nodded. There was some reaction to the revelation, a flash of something that she experienced before processing the information and folding it away into the recesses of her mind. "How long do Time Lords usually live?"

"We have a way of cheating death that allows us to live almost forever." The Doctor couldn't keep all of the bitterness out of his voice. He decided now would be a good time to take control of the conversation. If he was going to go over all of this, he was going to go by his own plan. This informative conversation needed to work both ways, after all.

He cleared his throat. "I'll tell you what this says if you'll answer some of my questions," he said, pointing to the circles.

"Can you teach me to read it?" Ella asked, the razor's edge reappearing in her eyes.

She drove a hard bargain, the Doctor thought wryly. There were some worries that would come with teaching her to read modern Gallifreyan, and difficulties. It was an ancient and intricate language, but teaching her held its own appeal. The choice was easy. "Yes. And I will _if_ you'll answer all of my questions honestly."

Ella eyed him for a long moment, reluctant and torn. Her expression bore an uncanny resemblance to that of a puppy that has one tennis ball already in its mouth and is struggling to capture another that it desperately wants, but it knows it has to choose. It is a look of indecision because it doesn't want to let go of either. Ella didn't want to release her secrets to gain new and somewhat uncertain knowledge even if was appealing.

"To make it entirely fair, I'll answer all of your questions too, alright?" The Doctor offered, trying to bribe her into agreeing.

"Fine," Ella sighed, face going perfectly blank in anticipation. "Fire away."

The Doctor smiled, trying to be reassuring. "Tell me about yourself, Ella."

"That's not a question," Ella returned quickly, frail arms folding over her chest.

"No, I guess it's not," the Doctor acknowledged, trying to decide what to ask first. "When's your birthday?" he asked with a smile.

Whatever she had been bracing herself for, that wasn't it. Her surprise was obvious. "Uh, October twenty-fourth."

"Oh, good day that," the Doctor told her with a grin. "Annie Edson Taylor becomes the first person to survive taking the plunge over the Niagara Falls in a barrel, Orville Wright manages to stay airborne for nine minutes and forty-five seconds in a _Wright Glider,_ Harry Houdini has his last performance, which is not so good, _but_, he added hurriedly, "it's also the day when the first snapshot of Earth is taken from space by humans. Of course, other species have been photographing your planet for ages. And best of all, you were born." He smiled genuinely at her.

The Doctor had so many more questions but he hesitated. Maybe asking serious questions all at once wasn't such a good idea. Ella was sitting up stiffly, green eyes avoiding his as she braced herself for his next question. Continuing to smile he changed plans.

"There's no exact translation for this," the Doctor began, pointing to his words in the sand. "It's about my family. Because they're all gone, sometimes it hurts to be reminded of them." He rubbed the back of his neck and studied the sand for a moment, swallowing hard. "'The love of a family gives value to time and and a center to our universe. Without family we are wanderers, cast off, and time is robbed of its weight and its joy.' I've lived long enough to experience the truth of this saying." He smiled a little ironically. "I've been a wanderer for a long time since the Time War, when all of my people—all of my family—died. When we met I told you I ran around looking for trouble. I do. But… since finding you, it doesn't feel so much like wandering. Now that I have you, that I have a family again, it feels like it should, like traveling and adventuring. Wandering is such a lonely word and a lonelier feeling, being all alone, running without reason, just trying to find something to do, someone to save. I've had companions, people I traveled with and loved. Oh, I loved them very much, but they've all gone away now. But now I have someone to protect again, a family, a daughter." He smiled and the light of it reached his eyes. "I'm so glad you're here, Ella."

Ella's eyes had widened as she took in everything he was telling her. "I'm glad too. I don't like being alone." Suddenly, Ella turned her attention to the bag she'd brought with her to the beach, reaching inside to pull out a small canvas. The Doctor recognized it as the little painting she'd rescued from the asylum. "Here," she said after clutching it to her heart for a moment. "I want you to have it."

The Doctor took the gift with with the utmost care, flipping it in his hands so that he could see the picture. The painting was done in a style very similar to that of Vincent van Gogh with short brush strokes and creative use of color and layering giving it that impressionist look he was famous for. There was a dark sky, swirling with shades of the night, pinpricked by points of light. In the foreground was a hill in muted shades of green, a forest encroaching on the right edge of the painting. Down below and in the distance was a brightly lit little town, looking warm but closed of and faraway. What caught the Doctor's eye though and made his smile turn sad and sweet was the image of a little blond girl with wild hair, silhouetted on the hill, looking away and down at the town, and looking very much like the faceless girl from Ella's sad painting. But this time the girl wasn't alone. Unlike the rest of the painting which was a little faded from time there was new figure in still-glossy paint that Ella had just recently added in. It was a tall, lanky man in a long brown coat, hair sticking up at odd angles. He was holding the little girl's hand.

"This is beautiful, Ella," the Doctor said, looking up at the little artist. "I really love this."

"Thanks," Ella said quietly, shifting on her seat in the sand, a little uncertain what to do with the praise. "I—" she started but stopped, looking out at the ocean.

"Would you like to hold my hand?" the Doctor asked, setting the painting down carefully.

Ella turned to look at him quickly. She nodded, holding out her right hand. The Doctor to her hand and squeezed it gently before pulling her closer and wrapping his arm around her shoulder. To his relief, Ella leaned against him and relaxed, reaching up to hold his left hand with hers and fisting her free hand in his coat.

They had each other now and everything would be alright. They had time and time had more meaning. They could ask questions and learn as they went along. Improvisation was always one of the Doctor's strong suits. He smiled. It was still had to believe he had a daughter.


	3. First Meeting of the TARDIS

**A/N: I just realized that I never let y'all know why I am npolo get updating this series of firsts! I decided to continue Ella's story with the Doctor in the original posting, Little Ella and the Doctor because it seemed like very few of the story's followers managed to make the transition to this posting. I feel terrible for not alerting you all to this change sooner! To make up for it, here's a new chapter. After you read this you can head over to Little Ella and the Doctor to read more new firsts that I've posted there. Also, I would like to thank you all for your reviews. The comments I have received here are some of the most heartwarming and touching and I truly appreciate them. Well, this is the longest and most confusing author's note ever. *clears throat awkwardly and points to story* enjoy. **

Ella awoke with a start, sitting up quickly. Sweat was beaded on her forehead, her heart thudded wildly in her chest, and hot tears were streaming down her face. It had only been a nightmare, she slowly realized, allowing the knowledge to sink in. A combination of all her waking fears and worries had mixed with memories of her past to torture her in her sleep.

Blinking at her surroundings, Ella began to accept them as the familiar features of her room in the TARDIS. Safe. Comfortable. _Home. _But still the tears fell and her slender body continued to tremble. She was haunted by the terrifying realness of her dream.

Out of the semi-darkness appeared a small light, a golden tongue of flame dancing in the air, about three feet from the ground and only barely out of Ella's reach.

Curious, Ella swung her legs over the edge of the hammock and leaned forward, hand outstretched to touch the spark. It glided forward an inch to rub the end of her pointer finger. The sensation was simultaneously blazing hot and freezing cold, but somehow not unpleasant. It slipped away, going out for just an instant before reappearing a few feet closer to the door.

Ella examined her finger which was tingling oddly but unharmed. Nightmare momentarily forgotten, she crept out of bed and followed the light, padding along behind the flame on bare feet. It always remained just a few feet ahead.

It led her to the console room which was unusually dark. Its coral-like pillars were shrouded in deep shadow, even the baubles and doodads from the console were dimmed and darkened. The little girl hesitated for a moment in the doorway, uncertain. The memories of her dream clawed back into her mind at the sight of the darkness. But the dazzling spark continued to twirl and dance just ahead, shimmering with what almost seemed like encouragement and expectation. With trepidation, Ella followed it to the dark and quiet console.

Slowly, the console began to glow from somewhere deep within, every crack and seam, every tiny space filling with warm golden light. As it grew, tongues of silent flame slipped out to join the first. At the start it was only one or two, soon it was thousands.

Ella took a step backward, captivated. The shimmering sparks began to swirl. Gold, red, orange, silver, white, all pulsing and whirling through the air. In the heart of the mass of living light appeared the figure of a woman, formed by the light and within it.

In awe, Ella watched as the figure came to be, created by the still-flickering and shimmering flames, giving her a look similar to that of an impressionist's painting come to life, each tongue of fire a brush stroke. The flames that formed her never ceased in their dancing and shifting, even breaking away from her for a moment to dance a few inches away before rejoining the rest. She was beautiful, her body tall and slender beneath her long gown of orange and red which hung gracefully off her shoulders. The fabric sparked and danced as she folded her long legs and sat, pale, glowing-burning feet peeking out from under the edge of her dress.

But what really captured Ella's attention was the woman's face. Heart-shaped with soft, round features she had an innate kindness to her. Her eyes were closed, long gold-burning lashes hiding her eyes. Long, wavy hair floated lightly around her head in an deep auburn halo, the ends swirling around her shoulders. Every inch of her burned with an intensity that was almost painful to look at.

Suddenly, her eyes snapped open and shone brighter than any light Ella had ever seen. The burning orbs fixed on the little girl.

"Hello," said the figure in a soft, rich voice that was infinitely intricate. In that one word was seamlessly woven birdsong and laughter, the crackling of lightning and a sorrowful cry. It sounded like all of life and time condensed and bottled into a melodious sound; a voice. A soft smile played on lips of molten gold. "Hello is so different from goodbye," she noted aloud, sounding amused. "Hello," she repeated.

"Hello," Ella said finally, mind reeling. She shifted on her feet, considering running away.

"Please stay," said the woman as if reading Ella's thoughts. She patted the metal floor beside her invitingly. "I don't want you to go."

Ella sat, drawing her flannel pajama-clad knees to her chest. She kept her eyes fixed on the apparition. Opening her mouth to ask a question, the woman cut her off.

"You were going to ask who I am and I am going to tell you that I am the TARDIS," she said, answering Ella's unasked question with a smile. "And you, human child—_time child_ now, are _my_ Ella."

Ella frowned slightly. The Doctor had mentioned that the TARDIS was "a little bit alive" but made no hints that the TARDIS could be like this.

"You have lots of questions and I have _all_ of the answers," the TARDIS seemed momentarily delighted, voice light and lilting, still infinitely complex. She turned a little more serious. "But we haven't that much time. Funny thing, time.

"I exist outside of time and deep within it all at once, rarely do I experience it like this, linearly. I am in the Vortex and I can see all of time and space at once, every possible future, every could be, should be, must be, cannot be. I see and experience it all. Everything. Past, present, future. I am in and of all of it always." She smiled at Ella.

"Oh, yes, I saw you. I heard you crying. All your life alone and sad. I saw your futures." The woman's features grew sad, lips curving downward, eyes dimming slightly. "You remind me of my Doctor. So sad and alone, smart and daring, creative and adventurous, so much potential for good and for bad." She paused to swipe her thumb across Ella's cheek, evaporating the tears and leaving the skin tingling pleasantly.

"My Doctor was very sad the day that I brought him to you. He was so sad and alone and dangerous. Like you. I saw all of the possible futures for both of you at that very instant in time and I saw what they would be together." Another smile. "You needed each other."

Ella listened carefully, her breathing becoming normal again and her fears forgotten.

"I know your fears and doubts, your past. You have nightmares that stalk you even here, so strong that I can't keep them away with psychic fields and you won't tell my Doctor about them. I hear you cry and I have come to talk to you now to relieve some of your fears. I shall take you and my Doctor to a place tomorrow where a cure for your bad dreams will be found." The TARDIS was smiling again, but her expression was tinged with sadness. "I cannot reveal to you everything that I see, but know that your nightmares are only that and you are loved. Love is like time, you know. It's forever and always and _strong._ It connects things and gives them meaning. Love is oh so very much like time. Beautiful words, both of them," she rambled.

"I know that this will not fix everything, that feelings and scars cannot always be healed in a moment, but I know that one day this helps make the future better," the TARDIS finished confidently.

Ella was crying again now. She opened her mouth to speak.

"You're not going to 'mess this up' and I will not leave you." The TARDIS wiped Ella's tears again.

"I think I love you," Ella said quietly, surprised by how much she meant it. The words caught in her throat. She'd never admitted to loving or caring about anyone or anything before.

"I know and I love you too, but our time," she laughed a little at the word, "is up. I am always here, my Ella, but this will be the time we talked." The TARDIS leaned forward and planted a soft burning-tingling kiss on Ella's forehead. "Goodbye!"

With that, the image of light disappeared just as it had appeared, the flecks and sparks of flame seeping back into the console's cracks. After a moment, the TARDIS' glass center cylinder began to glow again and the familiar _VWORP, VWORP!_ sound started up, continuing for a few moments before growing quiet as the TARDIS landed with a gentle shudder. Little Ella sat alone in the dark.


End file.
